


Freak

by sheafrotherdon



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Community: casa_mcshep, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-01-29
Updated: 2009-01-29
Packaged: 2017-10-11 22:29:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 497
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/117807
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sheafrotherdon/pseuds/sheafrotherdon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>528 words of something fond with socks</p>
            </blockquote>





	Freak

**Author's Note:**

  * For [dogeared](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dogeared/gifts).



John wakes in the middle of the night, dragged up to wakefulness by – what, exactly? His radio's silent, the city's quiet, and Rodney's . . .

. . . standing on the other side of the room with his back to the bed, moving from foot to foot and muttering under his breath. John squints, but Rodney doesn't become any more explicable. "What're you doin'?" he asks, and coughs to clear his throat.

"Go back to sleep!" Rodney says, waving a hand and going back to his mindless dance of something.

"Rodneeeeeey," John whines.

"Organizing, if you must know. Nothing important, go to sleep."

John sighs and throws back the covers, swings his legs out of bed and sits up, scrubbing at his eyes. "Not gonna happen."

Rodney looks over his shoulder, scowling waspishly. "Because what, there's some sort of security situation over here that requires you to be present?"

John tilts his head and blinks a couple of times, but that doesn't transform Rodney into something comprehensible any more than the squinting did. "Maybe."

Rodney pffts, and swings back toward whatever he's up to – something involving arm movements and soft thumps once in a while.

John gets up to see. "You're . . ." He chews on the words for a minute once he reaches Rodney's side. "Balling up socks?"

"Well," Rodney snaps, "there was chaos in this drawer and your socks were infiltrating my socks and grey was cohabiting with black – "

"Cohabi . . . "

"– and we were probably three days, _three days at most_ , from a tragic brown argyle incident, and you have no idea how – "

John reaches out to rest a hand at the back of Rodney's neck. He squeezes just a little. "Freaking out, huh?"

"About living together? Why ever would you think that?" Rodney manages, sagging beneath John's touch.

John reels him in, relishes the hesitant slide of Rodney's t-shirt against his chest, the burst of breath against his neck. "You could've just told me."

"a) We don't do talking," Rodney mumbles. "And b) I thought it best you sleep through my completely pointless breakdown. Over socks. Because. You know. _Socks_."

John laughs softly, presses a kiss into Rodney's bed-messed hair. "C'mon," he says, leading Rodney back to the tangle of sheets and blankets where they sleep. "Socks'll . . ." He encourages Rodney to fall gracelessly onto the bed, follows him with just as little care. "Keep," he yawns, mashing his face into Rodney's shoulder, hooking a leg over Rodney's thigh.

"Octopus," Rodney grumbles, tugging the blankets up. "You're an octopus with sprawling issues, and _boundary_ issues, and probably hidden inky issues and . . . "

John lifts his head and kisses him gently, eels a little further down into the warm cocoon of their blankets and whispers, "how 'bout you just shut up, now?"

Rodney huffs, but scritches John's scalp with broad, capable fingers. "Says you," he offers, nose pressed into John's unruly hair.

"Says me," John nods, and he shifts a little closer, belly to hip, thigh to thigh, and hopes he manages not to drool.


End file.
